


The Five Times Bones Blamed It On the Alcohol

by pomme_noir



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Academy Era, Anal Sex, M/M, Rimming, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-21
Updated: 2011-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-14 23:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pomme_noir/pseuds/pomme_noir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Jim and Bones have drunken sex, and the one time they don't need to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Times Bones Blamed It On the Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> AN:Dedicated to my beta mamacita. Thank you for three fabulous years of friendship.  
> Disclaimer: I don't not own the ST franchise. I make no money from writing this story.

1.

One of the advantages of being a drunkard, McCoy had learned, is that you can always tell what level of drunk you are. This came in handy in situations he would much rather not remember the next morning. Take, for example, this moment right now, when he had his best friend up against the wall and was doing his level best to suck a mark into Jim’s neck. If he'd been sober he never would have done such an asinine thing as fuck his best friend.

He could only be glad that he was so far gone he wouldn’t remember most of what was about to happen. Jim cried out and scrambled to undo the fastening of his pants. McCoy removed his hand from Jim’s neck to knock Jim’s hands away, squeezing one of them in warning and pressing it more firmly against the wall.

This was not Jim Kirk’s show and Jim definitely wasn’t in control tonight. He acquiesced and that only made McCoy suspicious. He lifted his head to look at his handiwork and grunted in approval before moving back to ravish the mouth he’d been fantasizing about for months now. Yes, he would much rather not remember this; it would only make the ache so much worse.

He was right to be suspicious; not even five minutes later Jim was trying to hurry things along. “I don’t think so, Jim. Behave or I’ll stop right now.”

Jim subsided from trying to flip their positions and instead pressed his hips forward, trying to grind against McCoy’s erection. McCoy nipped Jim’s neck sharply in warning. “I’ll tell you when you can come.”

Jim let out a half-whine, half-whimper. “Fuck, Bones. If I’d known this was what you’d be like, I would have tried a lot harder to seduce you.”

McCoy let out a snort. “No, the difference is ‘m too drunk to tell you no.” He flipped Jim around so he was facing the wall. McCoy fumbled with the fastening of Jim’s pants, tugging viciously at the zipper. Jim huffed a laugh and helped McCoy with the stubborn zipper.

“Desperate, are we?” Jim teased.

“About as desperate as you are for me to fuck you.” McCoy punctuated his point by rubbing his erection on Jim’s now bare ass.

He knew he wasn't going to last long, it’d been too long since he’d had any sexual contact other than with his hand. His only hope was to distract Jim and hope he came first. McCoy eased the strain in his own pants by unzipping them and saw the resulting shiver it caused in Jim. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to get Jim to come first, after all. McCoy pushed down his pants past his knees and plastered himself against Jim’s back. They both moaned at the contact.

“You feel so good, Bones.”

“So do you, kid.” And _fuck,_ does he.

Jim actually whimpered. Yes, it was going to be a piece of cake making Jim lose control. McCoy ran a hand from chest to hip twice before gripping Jim’s cock and giving it a hard pull.

“Fuck!” Jim threw his head back and bucked into McCoy's fist.

McCoy didn’t even notice he was rutting against Jim’s ass until he was almost ready to come. He pulled away slightly and focused on jerking Jim off. He pressed kisses to the back of Jim’s neck and nibbled on his ear. His dick was leaking at the sounds Jim was making. When Jim pushed his ass back against him, McCoy gave up trying to hold himself back.

“You have one of the nicest asses I have ever seen. Everyone stares. I even caught Pike looking once.”

“I always knew he was really a dirty old man,” Jim huffed.

When Jim wiggled his ass McCoy slapped it, causing Jim’s breath to catch. “Do that again and I’ll make the next one harder,” he warned.

Of course Jim would do it again, stubborn brat. McCoy delivered a hard smack on the other cheek, as promised. Jim cried out and came all over McCoy's hand. When Jim started to sag, McCoy shoved him forward. “Just because you’ve come now doesn’t mean you don’t have to reciprocate.”

Jim made a halfhearted attempt to turn around, but McCoy shoved and pulled him until Jim's ass was pushed out and his arms braced on the wall. He took the hand covered in Jim's come and wiped it off along Jim’s crack. It wasn’t ideal, but he wasn’t going to last long anyway. McCoy grabbed Jim’s hips and slid his cock along the crevice of Jim’s ass. _Goddamn,_ it felt good. He rutted mindlessly against Jim until he came in three hard pulses. Pulling back, McCoy admired the sight of Jim's ass, red and come-splattered. It was an intoxicating sight.

McCoy pulled away and shed the rest of his clothes. He stumbled for his bed and blearily looked at his clock. He had to be up in five hours for his shift at the clinic. He didn’t bother saying anything to Jim. Now that he had gotten off he was probably climbing the walls to leave. McCoy didn’t think his status as Jim’s best friend made him any different than any of the others Jim had slept with. Jim used his bathroom to clean up and then left.

McCoy buried his head in his pillow and prayed to wake in blissful ignorance of what had just happened.

2.

McCoy took a lazy sip of his beer before he looked at his cards. Not a bad hand, he mused. It was Friday night and he'd tagged along with Jim to meet some friends at a pub not far from the Academy. The back room they were in was hazy with smoke. McCoy threw in a chip when asked to call or fold. Jim sat next to him and McCoy was acutely aware of where Jim's thigh was pressed against his.

There hadn’t been a repeat performance since that first time. And while McCoy had furiously masturbated to those memories, he was glad that Jim had pretended nothing happened. If it had affected their friendship he would have hated himself. McCoy jolted when Jim hooked his leg with his own. He looked furtively around the table to make sure no one had noticed, and they hadn’t. He glared over at Jim, but didn’t move to untangle their legs. McCoy told himself there was no point as the game was almost over, and Jim would only probably do it again if he said anything.

Surprisingly, McCoy actually won the hand. They weren't playing for anything important, just little things, like extra time in the VR units and favors. They all headed back to the front of the bar and ordered drinks. He only planned to stay for one drink before heading back to campus, as he had an early morning shift tomorrow. When Jim didn’t immediately take off to flirt with some girl, McCoy tried not to read anything into it; he had been proven wrong before.

Once he was done with his current beer he got up from the table. So much for sticking to one beer. He was ordering his third before he knew it. It could have had something to do with how Jim disappeared shortly afterward to go talk to two female cadets. McCoy berated himself for thinking Jim’s flirting meant anything. He stopped drinking when he started to feel full and sick. He decided to just leave without saying goodbye. He was already halfway down the block when Jim caught up with him.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?”

“I’d stay, but I have to work tomorrow.”

Jim shifted from foot to foot and looked at McCoy intensely before sliding back into playful. “Come on,” he said, dragging him into a gap between two buildings.

The alleyway was filthy and smelled even worse. Jim pushed McCoy up against the side of the building and started undoing his pants. McCoy couldn’t see Jim’s eyes and he didn’t like that. He made a displeased noise that made Jim look up. Strangely, those eyes didn’t seem half as glazed as they had back in the bar. McCoy grabbed desperately at Jim’s face, pulling it closer so he could lick at those lips. Jim put up no resistance but let him take his fill before sliding down on his knees. McCoy wanted to say something about what Jim was kneeling in, but his attention was diverted when Jim nuzzled his crotch.

“What are you doing?” he asked stupidly.

“I’m going to suck you.” Jim said it so casually that McCoy went slack-jawed.

“We're in an alley,” he said, stating the obvious, and just in case Jim still didn’t get it he added, “Someone could catch us.”

“So? Now do you want me to suck you or not?”

McCoy darted a look around the alley and didn’t see anyone. “Fine, but if you think I’m getting on my knees in this filth, you're delusional.”

“Whatever.” Jim wasted no time pulling out McCoy's cock and swallowing it.

Oh, how he missed blowjobs, McCoy thought. That was the one thing he really missed about Jocelyn: she had given brilliant head. He flinched slightly at the scrape of teeth. Jim obviously didn’t have a lot of experience, but that just made it hotter in some ways. McCoy petted Jim’s hair and stared at the top of his head. It all seemed so surreal. He reached down to stroke a hollowed cheek. Jim made a sound and McCoy bucked his hips without thought, choking Jim.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Jim coughed and glared. When he started sucking again McCoy was so focused on not choking him again that the blowjob didn’t feel as good. As if sensing that, Jim sent his mouth lower. McCoy was so busy enjoying the feeling of having his balls sucked that he didn’t immediately register the noise. When he did he stiffened and pushed at Jim’s shoulders.

“Jim, there’s people coming.”

“Then you’re just going to have to come quickly.” With that said, Jim took him into his mouth again and sucked, hard.

McCoy hissed. His heart was racing at the thought of getting caught, but Jim was right. There was a thrill there, the idea of someone catching them while Jim was on his knees sucking his cock like it was his job. McCoy fisted Jim’s hair and guided that gorgeous mouth up and down his cock. It was the thought of Jim just _taking_ it that had him coming long and hard into that mouth. Jim choked and coughed, standing up quickly and covering McCoy's exposed body with his own just as a group of bar hoppers walked by.

McCoy grabbed Jim’s face and licked at the corners of his mouth and chin, licking away the traces of his come. It tasted like it smelled and he was not particularly fond of it, but it wasn't the worse thing he’d ever had. Jim whimpered and rutted against his leg. A couple of the group hooted and hollered, but he ignored them. It was too dark for them to see much, anyway.

“Bones, please.”

Reaching a hand between them, McCoy fisted Jim’s cock. Jim tipped his head and clutched at McCoy's shoulders. “That’s it, Jim, let go.”

McCoy was entranced at the sight of Jim coming apart. The flush of his cheeks, the wild pulse of his neck visibly pounding under his skin, his wet swollen lips parted as he drew harsh breaths, all of it worked to mesmerize him.

“I’ve always wondered,” he murmured.

Jim’s eyes opened. “Hhhmm?” he inquired, too close to coming to really care what he said, which was good.

McCoy leaned forward and sucked a mark into the same spot he did last time while at the same time using his thumb to rub at the head of Jim’s cock. Jim arched and came. McCoy stroked him through until Jim put a hand on his to chest to push him away. McCoy looked down at his come-spattered hand and shirt. Since the shirt was already dirty he just wiped his hands on it. Carefully not looking at Jim, he pulled up his pants and buttoned them. He wasn't sure what to do now that they were done. So he didn’t do anything. Instead he told Jim he’d see him later and started walking back towards campus.

3.

McCoy knew he was blitzed out of his mind because there was no way he’d do something as depraved as he was contemplating otherwise. He hadn’t even given a token protest when Jim had saddled up to him in the bar and whispered into his ear what he had in mind. McCoy had just enough working brain cells left to know this was an extremely bad idea.

He looked back up at the bed where what’s-her-name—oh, yeah, Helen—was riding Jim. Jim had his hands on her ass, spreading her so McCoy had an unobstructed view of Jim’s cock disappearing inside her. He heaved a sigh. How he could possibly think this wasn’t going to blow up in his face, he did not know.

“Well, are you going to join us or not? You promised me a double stuff, and I expect you to follow through.” Helen’s voice broke through McCoy's musings.

Jim smirked at him; like he didn’t really think McCoy was going to follow through. That, more than anything, propelled McCoy out of the chair and towards the bed. Jim watched as he stripped. When McCoy moves behind Helen she stopped moving, waiting for him to push inside her. He kept his eyes on Jim as he positioned himself and then thrust in. She cried out and collapsed on Jim.

“Oh, that feels so good.”

McCoy agreed with her. She was tight and wet, but it was the feeling of Jim’s cock nestled against his that had him wanting to cry out. When Helen propped herself back up, McCoy took it as a sign to start moving. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in. Both Jim and Helen moaned. He dropped his head down on Helen's shoulder and started to piston in and out of her. It felt so amazing to slide inside the tight channel and rub against Jim’s hard length.

He lost himself in the rhythm of fucking, and the feeling of a hand on his ass startled him. He lifted his head to see Jim staring at him. The hand on his ass tightened; that was when he realized that the hand belonged to Jim. And _fuck_ if that didn’t almost send him right over the edge. Helen could have not been there for all the attention he was paying her. McCoy put extra force behind his next thrust and was rewarded with Jim’s eyes falling temporarily shut.

“You like that?” had come out of his mouth before he could stop himself. When Jim opened his eyes and looked at McCoy, pupils blown wide and biting his bottom lip, McCoy knew a power previously unknown to him.

“Look at you—you can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” He had said it to Jim, but Helen moaned and sped up her movements. Jim’s breathing increased even more. His hand on McCoy's ass clenched and McCoy knew he’d have marks tomorrow.

“Such a dirty slut. Wanting to get fucked so hard you’ll beg for it.” McCoy was momentarily distracted by Helen’s whine. He guessed it was a good thing she was getting off on him talking dirty, too, because he didn’t think he could stop now, not after he seeing what it did to Jim.

Jim’s eye glittered up at him and McCoy wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt. He was tempted to do it, but he didn’t know how Jim or Helen would react. He ran a hand up Helen’s back and grabbed her hair and fucked her like he wanted to be fucking Jim. Helen was gasping and bucking, fighting for her climax like her life depended on it. McCoy pretended that his knees were tired and fell forward, one hand beside Jim’s head and the other on his chest, his thumb grazing Jim’s nipple. When Helen climaxed McCoy found he couldn’t hold back any longer and he came with a deep groan.

He pulled out before his ears had even finished ringing. Jim didn’t come, but McCoy knew the girl would see that he did. McCoy suddenly wanted nothing more than to be gone. He pulled his clothes on swiftly, and after murmuring a few words he left. On the way back to his room he contemplated how much more he’d have to drink to black out and not remember what he’d just done.

4.

He swore up and down that the last time was the final time he was going mess around with Jim. What they were doing was not only fucked up, it was dangerous. The last thing he wanted going around the Academy that he was some kind of sexually depraved fiend. He’d told Jim he was working tonight and then gone to an out of the way bar. There was no chance of running into the kid tonight. Jim had failed the Kobayashi Maru for the second time this afternoon and was bound to be either out getting laid or at the library researching some way to beat the test. Which suited McCoy just fine. He instituted a new rule that he was not to drink around Jim any more. To do so would be akin to asking a starving animal not to eat you. Jim couldn’t help how he was, didn’t know that McCoy wanted. Although he thought Jim was starting to guess.

He was giving serious consideration to trying to pull the strawberry blonde who was giving him bedroom eyes when he felt the air next him displace from someone sitting down. He didn’t bother to look, just kept contemplating the girl. It had been a while since he had slept with a woman…alone, anyway. The girl glanced his way to make sure he was still watching and smiled. McCoy noticed the shift right away. Something in her face changed and her gaze was riveted on the person next to him. He had a sinking feeling, and it was confirmed by the hand that ran up his thigh.

“You don’t want her, Bones. I’ve already had her. To call her performance mediocre would be kind.”

McCoy glared and knocked Jim’s hand off his thigh. His mood was immediately soured and he wanted to punch Jim. “Maybe all I care about is getting off.”

He realized his mistake the instant the words leave left his mouth. Jim’s feral smile confirmed it. “Well, isn’t that funny, so do I.” Jim pushed into his personal space. “I’d be more than willing to help you out, and you have the reassurance that I’m far from mediocre.”

“I’m not interested,” McCoy lied. Jim would know it was a lie if he looked down. McCoy was already half hard just from Jim’s words. Jim smelled amazing, and McCoy just wanted to lick his neck and make him whimper.

He must have sounded convincing because a look passed over Jim’s face. Now that McCoy was really looking at Jim he saw the strain and the need…for him? McCoy didn’t understand. Jim could have any woman, and a fair number of men, in this bar if he wanted to. So why was he looking at McCoy with those lust-filled blue eyes? No, Leonard, he told himself firmly. He finished his whiskey and ordered another.

In his desperation to forget the lure of what Jim was offering, he drank. It’s wasn’t until he’s was staring at Jim and swaying towards him that McCoy realized he’s was drunk. So much for his rule. Jim the evil genius just smiled, having bided his time until he knew McCoy would be more amenable to his plans.

“Come on, Bones.” Jim was standing up and leading McCoy by his elbow towards the restrooms, and he went quietly, like the dumb bastard he was.

This was exactly what he meant about what they were doing being dangerous. He was about to engage in sexual activity in a bar bathroom. Lord knew the amount of germs that were in there. Jim looked over his shoulder and then opened the door to a room and shoved McCoy inside. It was pitch-black, so he couldn’t see anything, but he knew it wasn’t the bathroom. McCoy only had a moment to appreciate that fact before Jim was on him. It took McCoy a few seconds and some groping to figure out where everything was before Jim was kissing him with a ferocity that was almost scary.

“Jim—mph—take it eas—” Jim wasn’t listening, though. One of his hands was up McCoy’s shirt scratching a blunt nails against his nipple while the other one fumbled with the button of his pants.

“Bones,” Jim panted into his neck biting at his now exposed collarbone. “I want you.”

McCoy told himself he was stupid for the thrill he felt at Jim’s words. He was positive it was nothing he hadn’t said to dozens of other lovers. So he didn’t reply, only pulled Jim back up to kiss his mouth. Jim dropped to his knees and took McCoy’s cock in hand, stroking before engulfing it. It occurred to McCoy then that anyone could walk in and see him getting head. He knew he was drunk when the idea of it just turned him on even more.

 

Jim was doing his best to suck McCoy’s soul out through his cock, and he could do nothing but grip the back of Jim’s head and fuck his mouth. He moaned in pleasure when Jim pulled away to tongue his balls. When Jim pulled away followed by a wet popping sound McCoy thought nothing of it—that is, until Jim sent a wet finger skittering towards his entrance, when McCoy suddenly realized his intent.

“What are you doing?” he barked out.

“Relax, Bones, just one finger.” Jim took him back into his mouth, and when McCoy didn’t push his hand away he tentatively eased the finger in and started moving it.

It was a strange and foreign feeling. He’d stuck a finger up inside himself once in med school, to see if he could locate his prostate. He had, and that was that. McCoy concentrated hard on the blowjob, and it was almost easy to forget the finger inside him.

He was getting close to coming when they heard a noise outside the door. He pushed at Jim’s shoulders to get him to stop, but Jim just sucked harder.

The door opened a crack, spilling light inside the dark room. McCoy could see Jim’s lips wrapped around his cock, his shoulder moving where he was working the finger inside of him. “Jim,” he hissed. “Stop.”

He looked back at the door. A guy backed into the room pulling a girl along with him. “Come on, baby, no one will catch us.” The girl protested and pleaded to go back to her place.

McCoy waited for them to turn around and catch him and Jim. As close as he was, he almost didn’t care. The couple looked too old to be cadets, not that that meant much. He couldn’t help the noise he made when Jim added a second finger, the fucking liar, and curved his fingers. McCoy quickly put his fist in his mouth to keep any sound in. The couple were leaving, though, shutting door and plunging the room back into darkness. He assumed the girl won that argument. Just in time, too, he thought as he came down Jim’s throat so hard he almost collapsed.

“Mmmm,” Jim said as he pulled off McCoy’s cock and stood up to kiss him.

Jim hadn’t removed his fingers from inside him and McCoy wiggled in hint. Jim still didn’t remove them, only kissed him harder before moving to his ear to whisper, “I need you, Bones, please.”

McCoy stiffened. Neither of them had tried to initiate penetrative sex during their previous encounters, and he was fine with that. Jim froze and waited. McCoy hesitated. It wasn’t because he was coveting his last claim to virginity, but it did mean something to him.

“Jim, we’re in a stockroom in a bar, where anyone could walk in and catch us. I’m not some slut you picked up for a good time.” Although he felt like one just then.

He pushed Jim’s hand away and went to pull up his pants. He swayed a little and Jim steadied him. McCoy remembered Jim hadn’t gotten off yet and offered, “Do you want me to blow you in return?”

“I know you’re not some bar bang, Bones.” Jim’s voice was soft. “I need you, Bones. Please.” There was something like begging in his voice. Jim Kirk did not beg.

In the quiet Jim had pressed his body back against McCoy. Jim kissed his neck and bit right in the spot he now knew made Bones shiver and press back. “Please, Bones.”

“You don’t even have any lubricant on you. And if you think you’re going to fuck me dry, you’re not half as smart as everyone thinks you are.”

McCoy heard movement and then crinkling before Jim pressed something into his hand. He knew Jim couldn’t see it in the dark, but McCoy rolled his eyes when he realized it was a packet of lube. Only Jim Kirk would walk around ready to fuck at a moment’s notice. A thought came to him in his bleary daze. Had Jim come to find him just so he could fuck him? He’d never asked how Jim had found him.

“We could go to the bathroom if you want. I just didn’t think you’d want to do it someplace so public.”

McCoy snorted. “And you don’t think we run just as much risk in here? Someone could walk in at any time. We were almost caught five minutes ago.”

He didn’t have see Jim’s shrug to know he’d done it. That’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” McCoy protested. Nor the fact that when he had thought about them doing this, he had able to see Jim’s face. He wondered if Jim had chosen that room because they couldn’t see.

“I’ve been thinking about this ever since last time. I want to know what you feel like, Bones.”

His breath _did not_ stutter. How could he possible be thinking about going through with this? If he let Jim fuck him in some bar, he was no better than any of the people who’d come before him. All the times before he’d been in control, or at least had felt the illusion of it.

“I want you so bad, Bones, please.” Jim was back to kissing him, swiping his tongue against McCoy’s. He still tasted of bitter come and alcohol.

McCoy couldn’t actually say the words, so he opened the packet of lube and groped blindly for Jim’s hand before squirting the contents on his fingers. Jim’s breath caught, like he really hadn’t expected McCoy to actually say yes.

“Over here will be better.” Jim guided him and then gently pushed him down.

Whatever it was, it was soft. It took them a few moments to get situated in the dark. McCoy found Jim’s hand again and guided it between his legs. He jumped a little at the cold feeling of the lubricant, and Jim shushed him before pushing two fingers back inside him. McCoy could only be grateful he was loose-limbed from the alcohol and from having just orgasmed. He knew it was going hurt regardless; he could only hope it wouldn’t be too bad.

He felt and heard Jim shuffle and then he felt lips on his stomach and a tongue sliding across until it reached his navel. McCoy reached out to put a hand on Jim’s head. He allowed himself to float in a fog of inebriation and the bliss of sexual satisfaction while Jim prepped him. He was up to three fingers then. McCoy ran a hand over Jim’s face. There’d be no forgetting this in the morning—even if wanted to—because he’d feel exactly what he had been up to.

Jim had removed his finger and McCoy could feel Jim’s cock pressing into him now. He tried to relax as best he could, but every fiber of his being was yelling for him to run, that this act would lead to far worse than being sore, or even being caught. Jim was petting his stomach with one hand while the other gripped his thigh.

“You feel amazing, Bones. Better than I ever imagined.”

It hurt, worse than McCoy had thought it would under the circumstances. He was breathing hard, and not because it felt good. His erection was gone and all he wanted in that moment was for Jim to hurry up. Jim was moving in and out of him slowly, rubbing and kissing all over McCoy’s body. When Jim shifted up and moved his leg, McCoy knew Jim had just hit his prostate from the feeling of incredible pleasure that shot through him. He gasped and then release a hard pant.

“That’s it baby, let me hear you.”

“Don’t call me—ngh—baby.”

He couldn’t stop the noises if he tried. He puts out a hand, out trying to steady himself. Jim’s thrusts were pushing him up the pile of whatever he was laying on. If he hadn’t been so far gone on booze and sex he’d have laughed at the absolute fucked up-ness of his current situation. He had become exactly what he’d sworn he wouldn’t be when he started fooling around with Jim.

Jim was close; McCoy could tell by the way he was taking shorter breaths and by how tight Jim’s grip was on his hips. Jim always held on extra tight before coming. McCoy has wondered if it has something to do subconsciously trying to anchor himself. Then he wondered if it meant something to know these details. He was so zoned thinking about whether he had outlasted every sexual partner Jim had had since coming to the Academy that he missed Jim’s climax. When Jim pulled out, McCoy hissed. He was definitely going to have to take something for the pain.

“You okay?” Jim asked.

“Yeah, fine.” Jim hadn’t kissed him, let alone touched him, since he came. A voice in the back of McCoy’s head told him that was what he got for acting like a whore.

A sudden flood of light had him covering his eyes and blinking. He heard Jim’s sharp intake of breath and looked at him. “Bones.”

McCoy looked down and realized there was blood on his thigh, made almost pink from where it was mixed with ejaculate. He grappled with his pants. All he wanted to do now was leave. “Don’t worry about it, we both got what we wanted, right?” He headed for the door on unsteady feet.

“Bones, let me—”

He jerked out of Jim’s hold and opened the stockroom door, disappearing through it before Jim could say another word. The whole ride home he questioned his suitability as a Starfleet officer if he couldn’t even keep to the simple rule of no drinking around James Kirk.

5.

Things were extremely awkward after Jim fucked him. McCoy was angry at himself for giving in so easily to Jim’s pretty words, disgusted that he gave it up in the stockroom of a bar while drunk. Now that Jim had had him he’d probably disappear from his life. He wasn't sure if that was better than Jim pretending it had never happened at all.

“Whoa there, doctor. We’re almost there.”

McCoy didn’t realize he had listed into a wall until Christine said something. He looked at one of the most competent nurses he’d ever met and smiles. “You’d make a damn fine doctor. Although I’d hate to lose you. You’re not an idiot like the others.” He patted clumsily at the arm wrapped around his waist.

She smirked and said, “I’m glad I meet your high standards. Here we are, room 306.”

He blinked at the door. “Right.” He reached over to type in his code. When the door didn’t open he glared and reentered the code. It just made a noise at him. “Stupid thing is broke.”

Christine leaned forward. “It looks fine. Give me your code and I’ll try.”

“I got it, Nurse Chapel.”

He jerked his head around to look at Jim. Suddenly he was angry and wanted nothing more than to hit the bastard. “That’s okay,” he said and whispered his code into Christine’s ear.

Something passed over Jim’s face—hurt, irritation? McCoy told himself he didn’t care. Christine entered his code and the door opened. He stumbled through, dragging her with him. Much to McCoy's dismay, Jim followed them in. McCoy stumbled over to his bed. Christine went into the bathroom and returned with water. He gratefully took it, and while he was drinking she knelt down and removed his shoes.

“Under the covers, doctor,” she ordered.

He removed his shirt, and because Christine was a nurse and used to seeing people without clothes on, he also removed his pants. Crawling under the covers, he allowed her to tuck him in. He heard her talking to Jim for a moment and then the door opened. Assuming they’d both left, he burrowed into the covers, pushing away whatever disappointment he felt because he was still angry. He was taken by surprise by the sudden weight straddling him.

“What are you doing?” He scowled at Jim as he turns over on his back. He could smell alcohol on Jim like a cologne.

“Ensuring you can’t run away. You’ve been avoiding me. I was just on my way to break into your room when you showed up with Chapel.” Jim shifted and a spark went through McCoy's body. “Good thing, too. She totally would have taken advantage of you if I hadn’t been here.”

McCoy snorted. “I think you’re confusing which one of you takes advantage of drunks.” Jim stilled on top of him.

“I gave you an out, and I never sleep with a girl who’s too drunk to give consent.”

Heaving a sigh, McCoy asked, “What do you want?”

Jim looked uncomfortable. “You’ve been avoiding me. I thought we were friends.”

“I didn’t know friends fucked each other like we did.” He was too tired and drunk to get into this.

Jim waved his hand like the sex they’ve had was nothing. “We’re friends—best friends—above all else. I don’t want to lose that. We can go back to being just friends, if that’s what you want.”

The problem was, McCoy wasn't entirely sure what he wanted. He thought he knew, but when he tried to picture it he couldn’t see it happening. Jim was who he was, and McCoy wouldn’t have him any other way. Just sucked for him, is all. “You're right, we’re friends before we’re anything else.”

He wanted to ask questions about that night in the stockroom, but he was almost positive he didn’t really want the answers. Instead he said, “You’re not fucking me again.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Jim looked at him meaningfully, and McCoy stared back placidly. Jim rolled his eyes. “I have something else in mind.”

“Jim, I’m tired—not to mention I think any kind of movement right now would lead to me getting sick, preferably all over you.”

“Then it’s a good thing what I have planned only requires you to be in one position. Roll over.”

He didn’t know what Jim was up to, and part of him wanted to say no just to say it. Eventually he turned over, but not without much grumbling and scowling. He didn’t want Jim thinking he was some kind of pushover, and considered that he'd let Jim fuck him in the ass in a bar probably didn’t add to his cause. He felt hands sliding and kneading down his back and he sighed. Maybe Jim as going to give him a massage. He really should have known better, he thought when Jim slithered down his body and spread his ass cheeks open.

One of Jim’s strengths was that he never did things by halves. McCoy was being breached by Jim’s tongue before he knew it. He gripped the sheets and fervently hoped he wouldn't embarrass himself by moaning like a five-credit escort. Jim was twirling his tongue and nibbling McCoy's hole like it was the best thing he’d ever had. When his tongue pushed inside McCoy lost it and moaned just like that five-credit escort he'd sworn he wouldn’t impersonate. He really should stop saying what he wasn't going to do with regard to Jim, as he’d only end up eating his words minutes later.

It felt so good he could almost forget about the pain of his previous experience with Jim, and he almost asked for more. Instead he surreptitiously rutted against the mattress while gently pressing back against Jim’s tongue. Jim was rubbing circles on the inside of McCoy's cheeks where he was holding him open. McCoy desperately wanted to moan at the incredibleness of it all. Just when he was starting to chafe from his rutting, Jim pulled back and h McCoy heard a wet noise and felt Jim’s finger circle his entrance and then press in. He was coming before he knew it.

Before the shocks of coming had worn off Jim was leaning forward and placing a palm in the center of McCoy's back. McCoy could hear the sound of Jim working himself hard and fast. It only took a few moments before he was shouting and coming. The feeling of Jim’s come on his lower back and ass would have made McCoy feel degraded if Jim hadn’t just had his tongue inside him.

6.

The sound of the door sliding open woke McCoy from his doze. He turned his head to look at the screen. Jim came around the corner. McCoy was about to open his mouth and tell Jim to fuck off, but then he saw how exhausted Jim was. When Jim stopped at the edge of his bed without saying anything, McCoy scooted over. Jim plopped down and wiggled into the warm spot left by McCoy’s body.

“You’re welcome.”

McCoy closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. He was almost there when Jim shifted and touched his face. McCoy’s eyes snapped open in surprise. Jim was giving him that _look,_ the one that led to no good. McCoy’s heart started to race and his dick twitched with interest.

“We’re not drunk,” he blurted out.

Jim just smiled. “I have a confession to make. I haven’t been drunk the last four times we’ve had sex, either.”

Then why let McCoy think he had been? Feeling a little angry, McCoy said, “I thought you said you didn’t like fucking the too-drunk-to-consent.”

Jim looked hurt for a split second before he replied, “No, but that was the only time you seemed to let me.”

Something shot down McCoy’s body at those words. “You couldn’t have tried harder?”

Jim shot him a glare. “I did, and you told me to quit pestering you. You weren't drunk enough to find my antics a turn-on.”

Well, damn, he had said that. “So what you want is to be each other’s space relief?”

“No, I just want you. I want to fuck without the excuse of alcohol. I want to be able to touch you without you thinking it’s because I want to get you into bed. I want us to laugh together again.”

McCoy felt a guilty tug at Jim’s words. It hadn’t been Jim who had pulled away from their friendship, making it all the about the sex. Reaching out, he traced the line of Jim’s jaw. “I want that, too.”

Jim moved and grabbed McCoy's hair, tilting his head so their lips aligned. McCoy hummed his pleasure into their kiss. Jim slid on top of him and pushed up his shirt and McCoy leaned up to help take it off. Their limbs tangled as they sought to undress each other while stealing kisses where possible. McCoy pulled his mouth away to tell Jim there was lube in the drawer when Jim lifted up on his knees and reached behind to grab his cock. McCoy was about to protest that he needed prepping when Jim slid suddenly, easily inside.

“Dammit, Jim. You came here expecting to get laid.”

Jim smirked. “I really didn’t think you’d say no to fucking me.”

McCoy thrust up hard while pulling Jim’s hips down in retaliation. Jim braced himself on McCoy's chest and hissed his pleasure. McCoy let Jim ride him, watching as the skin in front of him flushed red. When he plucked at a nipple Jim whined, eyes falling open and looking at McCoy with lust and affection. McCoy thought he got it then—what Jim meant about wanting to laugh again. They knew each other better than anyone; their sex should be fun, easy, not riddled with angst.

Moving a hand down Jim’s back he lowered it to stroke his stretched hole. Jim bucked and leaned down to bite his chest. “Bones,” he whispered before he came all over McCoy's stomach.

Seeing Jim’s thighs twitch with exhaustion, McCoy flipped them over without pulling out. Pushing Jim’s knees up, he held them as he started to thrust into him. Jim always was a gorgeous bastard, but looking like this—flushed, pupils dilated, mouth open, and making little noises—he was nothing less than stunning. When McCoy felt himself getting close he moved a hand to Jim’s cheek.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmured. Jim’s response was to squeeze tight around him and entreat him to come.

He always did have a hard time telling Jim no.


End file.
